The Wars We Wage
by Renata Swift
Summary: The grass was stained with crimson. The skies were shattered with screams. And it was only the thought of home that kept Caspian X alive as he got ready to face the battles of life.
1. Chapter 1 Just a Dream

**The Wars We Wage**

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_After posting a Prince Caspian fic, I felt compelled to write some more on the same theme - going to war. so I've written three more, revolving around the same time period, and will post chapters as I type them out from the pieces of tattered paper i'd like to call my story. Here is chapter one._

_This is for all the brave soldiers out there. Please review!_

**_Neo- Princess Rini_**

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**Chapter One - Just A Dream**

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_Is it the fear of being captured that makes you run?_

_Is it the thought of being seen that prevents you from being caught?_

_Is it the thought of death, running cold in your blood, that keeps you unseen?_

_Is it the love of home and family that keeps you from dying?_

Then, he woke up with a start, sweat pouring down his face, a cool winter night.

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"You look terrible," she quipped as he settled into the polished wooden chair, so exquisitely carved with tender hands and love of the arts. Even the sunshine filtering in through the cheerily coloured glass panes did little to lift the gloomy mood that had enveloped the Hall that morn.

"I feel terrible." He cradled his head in his palms, elbows on the long table, a frown on his face, creases on his forehead that were unnecessary for his age.

"You were tossing all night. _I _didn't get any sleep."

"Sorry." His soft voice barely carried over to the other end of the table, which made her crane her neck towards him. She threw a bun at him playfully, hoping to cheer him up as quickly as possible; he caught it easily, and she whistled as the bun's smooth though short flight through the air ended with it being chewed in his mouth. "Don't play with your food," he chided. She rolled her eyes.

"So, what did you dream about?" She picked up a slice of toast, and began to butter it generously.

"What makes you think I dreamt of anything last night?"

"I have _amazing_ powers of deduction. Plus the fact that I got up thrice to use the facilities helped too."

"Why do you drink so much water, then?" He looked repulsed at the very thought of getting up in the middle of a perfectly good night's sleep.

"The dryads said that I had to be on extra fluids. They're already mad that I won't stay in bed like I was ordered to, so they've put me on this stupid drink-tonnes-of-water-everyday thing. There's a price to pay if you want a kid. And I'm the one who's got to pay it."

"I think you look sweet."

"I think I look fat. At this rate, I'll have used up all the cloth in Narnia."

"I think you're exaggerating."

"I think you're avoiding the subject." She bit into an apple, having finished her toast. "So tell me all about it."

"There's nothing to tell. I had a fitful night, that's all." He was just about to put a mug of steaming tea to his lips when the large oak doors opened and a tiny creature scurried up to the table. It bowed thrice before speaking.

"Sire, Council had decided to commence at precisely noon today. The negotiations with the giants have been smooth, but some issues still require ironing out." He bowed once more, but this time to the other end of the table. "I regret my interruption deeply, your Highnesses."

"Enough with the formalities, Reep. Here, have a breadstick and some soup." She passed the mouse a cup of tomato soup and a few breadsticks. He leapt on the table and began to nibble at the food hungrily. "Thank you, your Grace."

"You're welcome. Your king here was just about to embark on a tale of epic proportions. Stick around, and we might be able to coax the entire story out."

"What your queen means to say," he interrupted, "is that we were merely discussing old legends and tales."

"So your dream is a tall tale, is it, my liege?" she challenged. The mouse turned to his rulers. "His Highness had a dream?" he chirped excitedly. "What was it about?"

"Relax, Reep, everyone has dreams. What it was about, he won't say." She leaned on the table. "I must say I'm intrigued. Must've have been something really, _really _bad if he isn't saying." She got up and sighed as she walked over to the mouse and the king. "You know," she breathed, "I had a dream too, once, a long time ago, to meet a handsome, dashing, tall and dark man with deep pools for eyes, who would sweep me away with a single gaze…"

"So what am I, then?" he demanded. The mouse laughed.

"See? He," she said, pointing a finger at him, "is such a baby."

"Getting back to the dream," the mouse said before an argument could ensue, "tell us about it, Sire."

"I don't wish to," he said firmly.

"Why?" she asked coyly.

"I just don't."

"Alright, be that way." She settled back into her chair. "Just don't toss around again tonight. A girl needs her beauty sleep." She went back to her tea and toast, both of which were stone cold by then.

But Caspian X was not hungry. All he could see outside the windows was the blood that stained the grassy hills and plains of his kingdom outside the castle walls. For he would have to tell her, sooner or later, of the wars of a king's life. All the same, he prayed for it all to be what it had been the night before – just a dream.

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_Please, please review!_

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	2. Chapter 2 The Longest Day

**The Wars We Wage  
**

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_Hey everyone! So here's chapter two. Thanks to Faye-chan who's helped me so much in writing styles. I owe you!  
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_Please review!_

_Neo-Princess Rini_

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**Chapter Two - The Longest Day**

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_Elegance turns to grace _

_As love turns to passion._

_Miracles happen_

_If you just believe._

_From Caspian._

She closed the locket and stared into the night sky. It didn't rhyme, but at least he'd tried.

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"Are you still awake?"

He came up behind her and slipped his arms around her neck.

"I couldn't sleep."

"So you're on the balcony, watching…what, exactly?"

The question was most unnecessary as he knew exactly where she was looking. Under the stars and dewy moonlight, far to the north, the stretch of land where he would be marching in a few hours time.

"I wish you wouldn't go." One of her tears landed on his arm. It sparkled like one of the stars above him.

"I wish the same." His voice seemed softer as she turned to face him. His hair floated in the night breeze. Below them, the night sentries patrolled the castle grounds, determined looks on their faces.

"There are easier ways to settle this, you know! Maybe you could call this whole thing off, buy us some more time! The troops would be grateful, and..." Her voce trailed into nothingness as she saw the pain in his eyes.

"There is nothing more either of us can do anymore."

"Nothing?" she scoffed. "You can always try."

"Maybe it's not one man who can change the world."

"Maybe it's one man's attitude which can!" she retorted.

A few seconds of taut silence passed before she laughed bitterly. "I sincerely hope this was not the attitude you had when you fought Miraz."

He was silent as he stared into the night sky that framed the snow capped mountains, signifying that winter was fast approaching. He turned to search his queen's face, only to find her staring hard at him.

She spoke first. "I'm being harsh."

"A little pity for the soldier would help, yes."

"A little pity for your wife would help too."

"Last I checked, you weren't fighting."

"Ouch. Harsh."

He leaned on the balcony railing. "Sometimes I doubt what I do, and no one, not even you, would understand. There are various paths I could've taken, but I'm certainly not the only one deciding the directions of the veering paths."

"Sometimes?" She cocked her head. He felt the tension ease, and chuckled. Her messy hair, tucked behind her ears, came loose.

"Alright, most times. I have to take decisions for everyone in this land, and it's not easy."

"I didn't say it was."

He sighed. "Every time I sit on that throne, I wonder what the kings and queens of old would've done if they'd been facing what I am facing today. It's everyone's expectations I have to measure up to, and more."

"Then you should stop comparing yourself to the other rulers." She placed her hand on his. "Maybe it's the pressure of being like them that holds you back from exploring your full potential."

"You should've met them. They always knew what to do."

"So give yourself time to become better! Stop looking to be a hero who knows all the answers! You keep thinking of how you could've done something differently, and sink faster into the bog of your own self-pity!"

"It's just that…" He looked at the sentries below, armed heavily in case of attack. "I didn't ask for this war, and it's unfair to my people." Looking back at the mountains, he said, "I need to go. I have to go. Even I can't stop that."

"But you have responsibilities, Caspian! I have only a few more weeks left! What will I tell our child if you never come back from the bloodshed?" She demanded angrily, feeling the baby kick harder. He stared into the distance dispassionately. She drew herself up to her full height and leaned over the balcony to look into his eyes, which were avoiding her.

"I realize things are not in your hands, Caspian, but you still hold a few cards."

She turned back into their bedroom, but faced him one last time, knowing that when she woke up in the morning he would be gone.

"Please, for the love of Aslan, play them well."

His gaze still remained fixed in the distance, a thousand thoughts etched on his mind.

The slamming of a door woke him from his reverie.

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_ReviewReviewReview!_


	3. Chapter 3 Bleeding Love

**The Wars We Wage  
**

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_I finally got around to typing the third chappie - surprisingly, it's only one MS Word page long! And no one reviewed! Jeez, I'm not that bad...A big arigato gozaimasu to Christine12-chan for reading this whole thing before I posted it!_

_**Neo-Princess Rini**_

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**Chapter Three - Bleeding Love**

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The putrid stench of death fills the air, one stinking waft at a time.

The grass is stained a deep crimson, the green unseen.

The clashing sounds of metal upon metal repeatedly striking each other shatters the stillness of the cold winter morning. Every few seconds, a shill cry pierces the air, and a body slumps to the ground.

The _twang_ing of bowstrings seems oddly musical to the delirious, of which are plenty in number on both sides. The march to the battle field was a long and arduous one, with barely any food or water, which were kept in ration.

Each brave soldier marches from his side into the other, sword at the ready, shield in hand. The dryads and naiads watch the bloodshed from afar, their siblings marching into the war to fight by and help their king. The fauns have stopped their nightly dances; now, they stand proud, ready to put their lives on the line for their beloved country.

The generals do not sit behind parchments of plans or battle tactics; they lead their men bravely to the front. The horses seem unfazed by the noise; the birds, however, fly far, far away.

And the king too fights. Cowardice is not an option – he has neither an excuse nor a reason. The fond memories of home fill him with sorrow; the tears that continually fall down his face are thankfully mistaken for sweat.

For home is where the heart lies – it's cheery village atmosphere, the schoolchildren playing in the snow, the women gossiping about the latest scandals as they shop for fresh produce in the market, the men who always gather in the nearby parks to play their games of chess, steaming mugs of coffee or tea in hand, the Talking Beasts freely mingling and debating about politics or the prices with tradesmen at the bazaar, and the familiar starry skies that shield the world and light up the castle rooms and corridors.

But mostly, he thought about her. Would she be in court, taking the decisions he was supposed to? Would she be playing checkers or cards with her ladies-in-waiting, who would let her win every time, and send her into fits of anger? Would she bet talking to the squirrels in the garden, trying to hide her sorrows? Perhaps chasing after the ducks in the castle pond, who would grab every opportunity to test her leniency by insulting her as she waddled slowly along the banks?

That night before he'd left, they'd fought, and let the entire kingdom know about it. She was getting along now; it had been six months already. Walking was getting to be a problem, as the ducks and geese often pointed out. Reepicheep would follow her everywhere, just to make sure she wouldn't fall over her own two feet. Refusing to stay in bed, she would obstinately show up at every Council meeting they had, suddenly demanding a pastry of some sort in the middle, then apologizing profusely for interrupting. Many of the lords had taken to calling her a camel; she'd thrown a vase across the room when she'd found out.

_Would it be a boy or a girl?_ He wonders as he ducked to avoid being the target of an arrow which flew swiftly past his ear. She was right. This battle was an utter and total waste of time and precious lives on both sides. Which is why they had to win it, and win it fast.

So King Caspian X battles on, harder than ever, encouraging his troops, helping the sick and the wounded, and praying to Aslan that they arrive home safely.

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_Please, please, for the love of everything you hold dear, review!_


	4. Chapter 4 And This Is home

**The Wars We Wage  
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**Finally! This is the last chapter, and I hope whoever read it enjoyed it. This chapter is dedicated to all those who just love a good happily ever after.**

_**Neo-Princess Rini**_

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**Chapter Four - And This Is Home**

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The blaring horns jolted her out of her reverie.

The butterflies in her stomach fluttered around just as hard as the flags that flew proudly above the castle. The gates were not yet open, but she could make out the river of wounded, battered and tired men marching straight towards the castle.

_Please, Aslan, let him be alive!_

The searing heat created a shimmer before everyone's eyes. The entire town had flocked to the castle grounds, some present to greet the returning army, others anxious about the condition of a loved one.

The crown on her head glinted fiercely in the sunlight, but it had begun to heat up, so she adjusted it as she craned her neck to see who was leading the somber procession. Her bulging belly made her legs hurt; she longed dearly for a comfortable chair, but she couldn't possibly sit when everyone else was standing.

That day, exactly a month ago, after their fight on the balcony, she'd awoken to find that he'd already left. On arrival for breakfast, she was grimly told that now, she was in charge. So she'd walked deep in to the palace gardens and cried bitterly.

She knew it wasn't his fault, but she hated him for leaving anyway. It was, of course, his duty. But the very prospect of him never coming back had successfully broken her wild spirit. Usually bright, cheery and witty, she'd gone into the throne room to begin with the day's proceedings, like she'd watched him do countless times, drenched in a cold sweat.

And the routine never varied. For a long month, she'd woken up every morning, hoping to see him standing over her and laughing gently. From breakfast till noon, she would listen to the troubles of his – no, their – people. At lunch, the lords would mock her, and there would be no friends to comfort her, as they had all marched off with him. Then, till bedtime, she'd brood, thinking about how their child would come into a world where his or her father would never watch him or her grow. In this morose mood, she would pull the blankets over herself, and fall deep into a world where he never left her side.

The procession was nearing then, but no one seemed to be leading it. Her heart began to thud dully in anticipation. Many of the townsfolk, Narnians and Telmarines alike, had begun to cheer on the army. The castle courtyard erupted into clapping as the army began to run towards the castle gates, which slowly began to yawn open.

_Still no Caspian!_

Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. The army was nearly at the gates. She could make out a few familiar faces, and she turned to her lady-in-waiting, a kind though simple girl, who had thrown courtesy to the wind and was hooting and cheering very loudly. Her legs were aching; she could stand it no more. She moved to the gates as the army filtered in. Their numbers were few, she could tell; but the joy on each soldier's face could only mean one thing – they'd won.

But he still wasn't there.

She flashed a quick smile to each soldier, some who took her hand and kissed it gently. A familiar leopard strolled by, with no dearth of weapons on his back, and she quickly asked, "Stormhold! Where is the king?"

Stormhold casually replied, "At the back. He insisted on being the last."

And sure enough, coming into view, with a few cuts on his face, was King Caspian X, proudly winding up the parade. She ran as fast as she could as he leapt off his horse, and the two hugged each other as many a villager cheered for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, they broke apart and he smiled. "It's kicking," he said gently.

"I know."


End file.
